Reflections of Romance in Spring
by MapleleafCameo
Summary: A romantic little story on a sunny spring day. A two part story written with mattsloved1. She wrote part 2 - Reflections of Romance in Summer - Go read it next! Established relationship. A little bit of slashy goodness. Rated T


**A/N: So my friend mattsloved1 wanted to cheer me up today. We had a conversation about what I'd like to read. We discussed romance, because she writes romance so well. I wanted walks in the park in the spring with lots of kissing. She wanted to know who should be romantic, John or Sherlock. I said she had to pick one & then I would write a story with the other. Here is my story. Hers is the continuation entitled Reflections of Romance in Summer. Please go and read it! It's beautiful!**

Reflections of Romance in Spring

It was a beautiful spring day, rare in its warmth and the brightness of the sun. John was in a rather exuberant mood, mostly due to that heady feeling one gets on a perfect spring morning, the birds singing, calling to one another, the beginnings of flowers peeking out everywhere, the general cheeriness of a city welcoming the break from the gloom of a wet, cold winter.

John had ideas for celebrating day as glorious as this, ideas to share with a certain, angular detective, aka, the love of his life. He wanted to do something spontaneous.

After Sherlock had made The Great Return from the dead, things had changed between them. It had taken a few well-placed words for John to forgive the other man his deception. Shortly after it had taken a few well-placed looks and some heated touches to realize that they meant more to one another. John had lost him once, had mourned him long and when he had come back, knew he didn't want to ever let him go. Sherlock meant more to him than anything. And he had set about proving it in ways large and small.

3 months after Sherlock's return, John set about thoroughly and passionately seducing the other man until the night he'd drawn him into his bed, mind, soul and heart.

Sex had been fantastic but the security in the knowledge that they were two halves of a whole and completed each other was even better.

Now, just over 6 months since Sherlock and John had decided to prove to all that the rumours regarding their relationship were true, after a week of running around at night, not seeing much of each other by day and not having the opportunity or energy to consummate anything, John found that the day was beckoning to him in all ways romantic. He wanted to see Sherlock out and about enfolded in the glory of the day and then later wrapped in the sheets on his bed.

When John had walked to work this morning he decided that he would spend the afternoon somewhere warm, sunny, surrounded by nature, leaning against a tree, with Sherlock's head in his lap as he stroked through his curls. He wanted to reconnect after a week of barely seeing each other. He wanted to drink in the sun and air through his pores, touch and caress the softness of his hair and begin a long exploration of Sherlock though his other senses. They would meet for lunch and then head back to the flat were they would do exactly that. Since he only had a morning shift, the afternoon was wide open with possibilities.

The trick was getting Sherlock to come and play. He was most likely crashed on the couch in the flat recuperating. John was hopeful that he was already bored and wanted something to do. Ennui didn't suit the man at all.

John pulled out his mobile, thought of a text and preceded to peck at the keys.

_Meet me at the Peter Pan Statue, Kensington Park at 1 o/c. John_

...

**Why should I? SH**

_There's a mystery to solve;) John_

…

**No there isn't. The very fact that you put a childish emoticon at the end of your sentence proves there is no crime in progress. SH**

_But I say there is. Aren't you the least bit curious? John_

**No SH**

_Yes you are! John_

**For your information I have no plans to leave this couch. I will not bestir myself for any reason. SH**

_Even if I beg? John_

…

_Sherlock? John_

**Oh very well. I suppose you won't be happy until I meet you at that ridiculous statue which pays homage to a boy who never grows up. SH**

_Reminds me of someone I know. And how is it you know about Peter Pan anyway, oh Great Dismisser of all things trivial? John_

…

**There were pirates. SH**

John smiled to himself. He could just picture Sherlock's mischievous grin.

oOo

At one o'clock John stood near the statue, a little nervous. It was within the realm of all things conceivable that Sherlock would change his mind, or a case would turn up and he would only remember later to let John know about it.

He was wondering if he should text Sherlock again when there was a slight clearing of a throat behind him. He turned and there was the younger man, standing right in his space. How on earth he could have possible snuck up on him, especially considering the height of the man and the appearance of The Coat, John couldn't be sure. But there he was. John felt his pulse speed up and his mouth suddenly became dry. He would never get tired of looking at him. Sherlock smiled and his heart not only threatened to beat faster but it did several backflips as well.

Neither was entirely comfortable with displays of public affection, but Sherlock did reach over and run the tips of his long fingers down John's cheek. It could still make John blush a deep red.

"Well I am here. What is this great mystery you've called me away from my many experiments?"

John just smiled and indicated to the shopping bag he was carrying.

"I thought a nice picnic in the park would be a wonderful way to celebrate the gloriousness of this day. No mystery. Just a lure to get you here," John smiled the smile Sherlock loved and took a deep breath, letting the spring air fill his lungs.

Sherlock, caught in the moment of relishing the smile, sighed a soft sigh, but did allow John to grab his hand and drag him over to sit on the grass. The sun was warming the air enough that John was actually able to take off his coat. He spread it under a nearby willow tree and gestured to his love to sit down upon it.

"Aren't you supposed to have a blanket and a basket or some other extra nonsensical paraphernalia? This is after all a picnic."

"Ah, but this was unplanned my dear detective. Rather fun once in a while to do things on the spur."

Sherlock grinned at John and accepted the sandwich handed to him with good will and without any nagging by the doctor managed to consume it and a bag of crisps as well. The two men sat on John's coat and ate the lunch provided. Whilst they ate Sherlock happily deduced passersby for John, something he never tired of.

After finishing and tidying up, John leaned against the tree just as he had dreamt of this morning, beckoned to the man he loved and patted his lap. Sherlock took his coat, spread it beside John and lay down and let his head fall in John's lap. John completed the perfection of the moment by running his fingers through the mass of curls, feeling the tensions of the week slip away as he did. He sighed deeply. Sherlock chuckled, his baritone laugh reverberated through the shorter man. John looked down into the grey green eyes that looked up at him, ready to throw himself into their depths and drown a happy man. He awkwardly bent over and kissed Sherlock thoroughly on the soft, inviting lips. Hidden by the lowered branches of the willow no one could see either of them share this private moment, John leisurely covered each of the perfect plump lips of his lover with his own lips, sucking and tugging on them until they were swollen and utterly kissable. He then allowed a little tongue to slip into Sherlock's mouth, tenderly exploring, tasting. Sherlock reached up and tangled his fingers into the short hairs on the back of John's head. They broke apart, John's lids heavy with affection and something more erotic.

"What ever should we do with the remains of the day?" John asked, his voice husky with suppressed desire.

Sherlock smirked up at him, blunt as always. "I would rather like to take off all of your clothes, slowly, one piece at a time, kiss you and lick every single centimeter of skin as its uncovered, study you, turn you inside out and leave you shaking with desire as I fuck you in every single room of the flat."

John grinned at him, "Well then. No time like the present. Shall we go?"

Sherlock nodded, but pulled him down for one last kiss, a promise of what was to come.

No one had noticed their arrival to the Gardens and no one saw them leave as the afternoon drew to a close.


End file.
